Careful Indifference
by Deb Zorski
Summary: Mary learns that since Irene and Sherlock are used to practicing a careful indifference with each other in their relationship, it will become necessary for her to do the same with her recent marriage to John. Irene/Mary and John/Sherlock. Some language and just-missed-it sex scenes implied .


"Then… you've never been with a woman before?" Irene raised an eyebrow, directly targeting the reason she knew they were having tea together in Mary's sitting room.

"And you have?" Mary wondered, astonished.

"Very often, and quite enjoyed it." Irene smirked as Mary blushed hotly at her revealing her secret so bluntly. "Mary, my dear, surely you knew I was a well-traveled and talented woman?"

"So your reputation would indicate." Mary noted with some distaste.

"It makes me _experienced_. You must admit you find me attractive."

"Yes, Irene, and _ever_ so modest," Mary rolled her eyes with a smile and took another sip from her china teacup.

"Modesty and regret I don't do well. I never did, but we have you for that, my dear." Irene smiled. When Mary huffed in response, Irene suddenly frowned. "Although you do modesty much better, out of the two," she was quick to amend.

"I don't have many regrets." Mary protested. "I've tried not to." She turned her wedding band around on her finger, spinning it nervously. "What's your secret?"

Irene laughed; a throaty short chuckle. "I have many." She smirked, leaning her chin on her hand and arching forward in her chair to be closer to Mary, who was seated across the table. "Mostly," she purred, "I live the way I want to, without caring what anyone thinks of me."

Mary thought it over for a moment. "You're fearless?"

"At least I appear to be." Taking another contemplative sip of tea, Irene smirked behind the rim as she knowingly maintained her mystery.

Mary was silent for a moment, thinking over Irene's answer. "Well, what about Sherlock, then?"

"What about him?"

"John and I needed our own arrangement just to have a chance _without_ him!" Mary sighed, exasperated.

"A chance _without_ him… huh. It sounds nice." Irene mused playfully, "But life would never be exciting, then." She concluded finally.

"How do you _handle_ life with him? He's positively _infuriating_!"

"Sherlock and I practice a careful… _indifference_…. toward each other." Irene met Mary's searching gaze. "It suits us fine. As to regrets, it's the one thing we always manage to agree on, since both of us have none of them to speak of."

Mary sighed heavily. "John is always feeling guilty that he abandoned Sherlock by marrying me. If they're so meant to be in each other's lives, then where is my place?"

"Here with me." Irene stated matter-of-factly, keeping a steady gaze on Mary, even despite the blonde's shocked, although intrigued, stare. "Do you _regret_ marrying John?"

"Not for a moment, but only how it has affected our life since then." Mary stood and went over to the window overlooking the side street, arms crossed and eyes lowered. "We have left Holmes behind us, but he is still the center of John's life. I've given all I can, but I can't surpass the great Sherlock Holmes."

"No one can." Irene replied flatly, yet rushed over in a flurry of cobalt velvet skirts when she heard Mary start to sob. "Mary, darling, it's not a criticism of _you_!"

"No, it's only a devastating truth! I need your _guidance_, Irene! What do I do?"

Irene sighed and took both of Mary's hands in her own. "John will always love Sherlock most. Sherlock will _always_ be first, and-"

"No!" Mary wailed, falling into Irene's embrace. "I've tried, Irene, I have!"

"And so have I, Mary. I've suspected this for some time now, and I found comfort elsewhere to help me cope." Irene admitted. "No one expects you to remain in a loveless marriage when you are unhappy." She informed Mary gently.

"I_ am_ happy when we're alone with each other." Mary protested.

"And you doubt him all the other times, yes?" Irene wiped the tears falling down Mary's cheeks, erasing the mascara trails marring the rest of her face. "It'll be all right, I promise you." Irene pulled Mary into her embrace, stroking the back of her hair.

"Are they really together? I've failed completely?" Mary sniffled, begging to know.

"I don't know for sure. I'm not sure I _want_ to know for sure." Irene sighed with a shake of her head. "It most definitely is not your fault if he's with Sherlock. Know that."

"I can't compete." Mary realized.

"Neither of us ever could."

Mary sighed and laid her head on Irene's shoulder, pulling her a little closer. "I feel so alone now."

"Here with me? You're not alone, lovely." Irene smiled, petting the back of Mary's hair again adoringly. "I'm here."

Mary lifted her head to look at Irene, who smiled. Mary searched the other woman's face for some sign of deceit, yet found none in Irene's sparkling eyes and gorgeous red lips.

"Mary, you're staring at me." Irene laughed nervously. "Are you all right?"

Mary closed her eyes and plunged forward, kissing Irene fully on her beautiful mouth. Irene held Mary even tighter, welcoming Mary taking solace in her kiss, adoring the gentle softness of their shared embrace. She vowed in that moment to care for Mary more than John neglected her, and much better than Sherlock ever _tried_ to pretend to enjoy the Watsons' marriage. She would love Mary completely and faithfully, the way Mary deserved. Just as Mary opened her lips inside their kiss, a little tentatively, Irene uncharacteristically pulled away.

"Mary, I promise you-"

"I know, Irene, but please… not now." Mary kissed her again, hungrily and eagerly.

* * *

Sherlock and John lay on their backs alongside each other in Sherlock's bed, both smoking lazily after their third climax together that afternoon.

"You have excellent stamina, Holmes, considering you don't sleep and barely eat." John snorted, smiling.

"Haven't you once called me a _machine_, my dear Watson?" Sherlock smirked.

They silently smoked for a long while, Sherlock sensing John's uneasiness. They had been together in secret since _before_ John was married, and simply continued on after the wedding was complete. Life had progressed just like always, yet Sherlock knew John felt guilty about wrecking his own marriage to Mary. Lucky for Sherlock, after hashing it out and having John blame him in all their nasty fights with each other, their make-up sex was terribly wonderful and _always_ passionate.

"I really wouldn't worry any longer, John." Sherlock puffed his pipe thoughtfully, closing their tensed silence by answering the unspoken question on John's mind. "Irene's fucking Mary."


End file.
